


Siren of the Slums

by DoAliensLikePasta, sleepyblueberry



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII
Genre: ASGZC, Alternate Universe - Assassins & Hitmen, Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, Attempted Rape, BAMF Aerith Gainsborough, BAMF Cloud Strife, BAMF Tifa Lockhart, But Cloud puts a stop to that QUICK, Cannibalism, Courting Rituals, Crossdressing, Eventual Smut, Gore, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Inspired Very Loosely by Hannibal (TV), M/M, More tags to be added, Multi, Murder Husbands, Non-Consensual Touching, Past Child Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Possessive ASGZ, Pretty Cloud, Protective ASGZ, Protective Vincent Valentine, They’re all Serial Killers, Vincent is Sephiroths Dad, When I say “Graphic Depictions of Violence” I mean GRAPHIC, mentioned rape, mentioned sexual assault
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-23
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:06:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24345475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoAliensLikePasta/pseuds/DoAliensLikePasta, https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleepyblueberry/pseuds/sleepyblueberry
Summary: The “Oni no Shou,” “Midgar Buster,”  “Red Mage” and “Hound of Midgar” have ravaged the city for years. Slaughtering hundreds and leaving no survivors or witnesses.It all starts with “Death's” disappearance. A killer with clean methods: a single shot to the middle of the forehead. “Death's” been around for decades, killing often. Once a month at least, with the record high being 20 corpses found in one day.After 36 months of “Death's” absence, he reappears, bringing someone with him.The Siren.Just as elusive and just as deadly as “Death.” Their corpses are often found naked or at the sight of reported attempted sexual assaults. The victims of said attempts are solid in their statements; they didn’t see anyone or anything.In the coming months however, the “Hound of Midgar” seems to fall under the Siren's song, followed closely by his companions. A strange ritual begins, using corpses to ...flirt. It keeps the MPD on their toes, to say the least.Follow the Siren's story, from learning Death's song to falling in love.
Relationships: Aerith Gainsborough/Tifa Lockhart, Zack Fair/Angeal Hewley/Genesis Rhapsodos/Sephiroth/Cloud Strife
Comments: 51
Kudos: 281





	1. The Prelude to Death's Song

**Author's Note:**

> More Chapters to come! They’ll be maybe once a week, as me and sleepyblueberries are heading into our summer vacations.  
> I’m excited to write this, and I hope you all will enjoy this!!

Vincent Valentine jerked awake as a knock rang throughout his hotel room. His red eyes snapped to the room’s window; too high of a fall. He’d live, but running with a broken leg, or two, wouldn’t help. 

The raven-haired man sat up with no help from his arms, reaching for the triple-barreled gun set on his nightstand. A second, louder knock rang out. Vincent sat straighter; whoever this person was, they were dangerous. Not many could walk, or breath, quiet enough to escape his enhanced hearing. He held the gun to his chest, standing behind the door as he pulled it open swiftly. When a gun didn’t go off, the man steadied himself, before throwing himself into the center of the entryway and firing. 

The shot rang out, a sharp hiss being pulled from the ...Vincent froze, repositioning his gun. A child. Why was there a CHILD at his door? Especially one drenched and shivering, meeting his gaze with dead eyes. 

He frowned, keeping the barrels trained on the blonde’s forehead. “Why are you here?” 

The child didn’t flinch as Cerberus leveled. “Train me.” 

Vincent’s eyes widened, barely; who the hell was this kid?“I’m not looking for apprentices. Move along.” 

The younger male scowled, the first hint of emotion he’d conveyed since Vincent had opened his door. “I know who you are, Vincent Valentine. You knew my mother. You’re the reason she’s dead. The blonde hissed, taking a step forward. His forehead was pressed against the barrels of Cerberus. Vincent pulled back a bit, checking down the hall to see if anyone had come upstairs after the shot. No one. The pale man almost scoffed; this town was more dead than Scarlet’s last husband. He motioned the kid in, pointing with a clawed hand towards the chair at the desk in the corner. The kid was cornered, and he clearly recognized it. He sat anyway. 

“I’ve seen you slip in and out of our house. You’d bring my mother ammunition and not for the rifle she used for hunting. I’d ask about you, she’d say, “I’ll explain when you’re old enough.” The kid deadpanned. 

Vincent clenched his fists. Claudia. 

“ Last..last night, a man came in. My mom talked to him for almost an hour. There’s a vent that runs from the downstairs living room right up into my room. Not that they were quiet.” the blonde continued. 

“He mentioned you, Mr. Valentine. Said if my mother didn’t tell him where you were, he’d kill her.” A shaky breath and a swallow. “As we speak, her corpse is probably being eaten by the white foxes that burrowed behind our house. She told me yesterday, to stay in my room. Not to go out. Not even for food.” Ice blue eyes met blood red, making Vincent tense. “I saw the bastard’s face as he ran. But,” the kid sat up straighter, “ I don’t have the resources, skill, or plain luck, to take down a man that big. I’m fucking 12.” He hissed. “Train me, you pale bitch.” 

The assassin had to hold back a huff of amused shock, covering his mouth with a gloved hand instead. “Kid. I’m not a teacher. The only reason you’re still standing is the fact that you’re two feet shorter than the average man.” Vincent monotoned. “No way. Even if you’re Claudia’s kid. Especially since you’re Claudia’s kid, actually. She was stubborn. I’m not putting myself through that shit again. I’m not taking in some brat..”

The 12-year-old slammed a fist onto the desk as Vincent stood, making him scowl. “Train me.” 

“Didn’t you hear me, brat? I said-“ 

“I heard what you said, asshole!” The younger yelled. Blue eyes, drowning in bitter tears, met soft red. “I refuse to believe that someone my mom let into her fucking safehouse, the one she raised her only son in, would turn down a request from said son.” 

Vincent’s brow furrowed, fingers wrapping tighter around Cerberus’s grip. “Safehouse...How much do you know?”

“First off, name’s Cloud.” The pre-teen reached into his back pocket, prompting Cerberus to reacquaint itself with the boy’s forehead. “Second of all,” a thick journal landed on the desk, “everything there is to know. From when she met you, Valentine. 24 years ago. When she pulled her first hit, and how she did it. Along with the next 50 or so, all the way up until last Tuesday. Mrs. Carter was always a bit too rude to my mom when she was buying groceries.” A tear ran down a cheek, still full of baby fat. “It’s written in here, how you helped my mom. When she was 12 and almost raped. How you took her in. How you hated my “dad.” How you helped her when she was pregnant with me. How you defended her from all the nasty harlots that called her names. How you took her all the way from Midgar to Nibelheim. I know everything about your history. Everything.” Cloud laughed wetly, running a hand over the cover. It was a few minutes before he did anything. “This thing was inside the fucking couch. I knew there was a reason she shrieked at me when I sat in her seat..” 

Vincent’s brows furrowed further, eyes flicking back and forth between book and boy. Damn. Claudia was an idiot. Why the hell would she write that down?!

Cloud looked down at the book, seeing thoughts running through the adult’s head; he bit his lip before opening the journal to the second-to-last page. “There’s a note in here, as well. Addressed to you. It told me not to read it. She knew I would find this journal, Valentine.” He chucked the book at the man. “Read it. I can’t understand Wutainese anyway.” 

The raven hesitated, keeping his ears perked as they landed on the first sentence. “Vincent. If you’re reading this, I’m dead. Damn, that sure sounds cheesy, huh?“ The assassin held back a smile, hiding his mouth behind a claw again. “In all truth, though, you probably think I’m an idiot for writing my work down. I did it for him, though. For my Cloud.“ A glance up showed the kid’s eyes trained on the lightning flashing in the sky. “He probably did some stupid shit like straight up knock on your door.“ He couldn’t hold back a snort at that, making the 12 years old look at him strangely. “He’s going to want revenge. Like I did. He’s going to also be a stubborn little shit. Like I was. Make sure he knows better than I did, Vince. I was stupid enough to be seen. Can you fucking believe that shit?! Seriously though, Vince. It’s not his fault his dad’s a deadbeat and his mom’s ..well, dead. Make sure my little Storm Cloud doesn’t make the same mistakes. Got it? Love ya, Vince. I’ll be sure to make some Nibelheim Moonshine for when you join me up here, you stubborn asshole.“

Vincent inhaled deeply, snapping the journal shut. He looked the kid in the eye.  
12 years old..it was like Claudia planned this shit. He dragged a hand down his face.  
He’d made his decision as soon as the kid had chucked the journal as him. He’d given Claudia this journal to help her practice writing in Common. She’d only known Nibel when he’d met her in Midgar. To think, she kept it all this long, and for this.

“Alright kid. I’ll take you in.” Cloud perked up, back straightening. The ice had returned to those blue eyes. The same ice that had earned Claudia the name “She-Wolf.” 

“On 3 conditions. 1) What I say goes. If I say hide, you disappear. If I say run, you don’t even leave a cloud of dust. 

2) We’re not going anywhere even remotely close to Midgar until you can knock a knife away from me. If you can get it from me, you can get it from anyone.” Cloud looked ready to argue, making Vincent raise his gauntlet and bare his teeth. He wasn’t letting this brat cut him off.

“3) Under no circumstances, are you to go off on your own. Have you ever seen the chunk missing from your mom’s thigh?” 

The pre-teen nodded slowly, looking weary. Good. “Your mom went off on her own to try and hunt something to eat. She almost lost her life to a shitty Marlboro. Brat couldn’t walk for a month. Don’t go off on your own.” 

A firm nod from the kid. Good. Vincent couldn’t go through that shit again. Losing kids, even for a few minutes, was terrifying. He understood mothers so much better, and he was a fucking Hitman. 

Vincent nodded in return, subconsciously rubbing his thumb over the marks carved into the leather cover. “Now. Cloud, was it?”

The kid nodded. Vincent smiled, barely. “You know your Ma’s Moonshine recipe?” He got an infectious grin in return. “Depends. You gonna yell at me for makin’ it like ma did?” The kid asked, accent thick.

A chuckle. This kid would go far. As far as the Reaper of Death could take him, and then some.


	2. The Hound's Encounter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GORE WARNING FOR THIS CHAPTER, AS WELL AS A GUY GETTING HANDSY WITH CLOUD

Cloud cursed as his back hit the ground, gravel digging into the flesh between his shoulder blades. He stood on shaky legs, glaring at the tall figure across from him. This fucker..

“I asked for you to train me. Not beat the shit out of me.” The teen hissed. 

He could practically feel the scoff Valentine held back. “If you can’t even take being thrown around, you’d never make it in Midgar. Even above the plate. A bruise or two is nothing compared to being stabbed,” the man deadpanned. 

Cloud grumbled before standing straighter, pulling his arms in close and widening his feet until they were shoulder-width apart. “No, they don’t.” A wry smile grew on his face. “For one, you don’t lose nearly as much blood.”

He saw the surprise on the man's face and lunged, shoving the hand holding the knife away with a forearm and grabbing a thin neck. His scowl grew a bit more at realizing that with his height, he wouldn’t be able to choke the man. The blonde hissed as the knife fucking spun in Vincent’s hand, pulling back just in time to evade a slice. 

He backed off for a bit, waiting, circling the cloaked figure until the sun was in the assassin’s eyes, before going back in. He went low instead, folding his fingers, so his middle knuckle pointed out and jabbed it into the space below the middle of the rib cage.  
A slight intake of breath and twitch was all Cloud needed, wrapping his right arm around Vincent’s left, putting his shoulder to the man's chest as well as an ankle locking against Vincent’s Achilles’ tendon and throwing him to the ground as best as he could. A dull thud was heard, and a grin broke out on Cloud's face. He’d actually done it!

A cold, metal wrist grabbed his ankle and tugged, dragging him from his happy thoughts. His nose slammed into the solid earth of Gaia’s grasslands, making him spit out another slew of choice words. 

“Always make sure your enemy is dead or knocked out before celebrating your victory.” 

Cloud complained under his breath, rubbing the bridge of his throbbing nose. “Yeah yeah..” he mumbled.

The same cold metal gauntlet landed on his shoulder, making the pre-teen flinch. A deep voice rang out as he was dragged up, surprisingly gentle. “Nonetheless,” Valentine began, “You did well. You’re advancing faster than Claudia, in fact. If we keep on this pace, you might make it to Midgar in..three years, perhaps?”

“Three WHAT?!”  
“Nevermind that. Let’s have a chat about you being stabbed.”

“Oops..”

~~

Cloud jerked to attention as a voice over the intercom rang out, unintelligible as always. “Next stop asndbmdbcyi, Next stop, asndbmdbcyi.”  
‘Gee, thanks.’ Cloud huffed. He looked around, glancing at the people on the seats around him. 

A hand landing on his waist made him sigh. It fiddled with his waistband, even dipping a few fingers into it to feel his skin. He smirked. This was too easy, sometimes. 

He spun around, winking at the balding man with the same scar on his ring finger Cloud had felt on his hip. Cloud dipped his hand into his skirt pocket, pulling out a slip of paper and a pen before scribbling a note and passing it to the man. He saw those revolting eyes light up with the sin of greed. The pig gave him a salacious grin that made Cloud shudder with anticipation. Oh, his thoughts were running wild on this Chocobo farm tonight. He bit his lip to hold back a snort. He really shouldn’t have watched that video Aerith had sent him before going hunting. 

He kept calm as the ID scanner traced over his body, fixing his skirt from where the pig had touched it. He’d need to burn these clothes anyway, but it always hurt him to see such nice clothes go down the drain. It was such a pretty violet…

He shook his head. Too much time with Tifa and Aerith again... When was the last time he’d seen Vincent anyway? He knew the man had been busy lately (he’d seen the news) but would it hurt for him to visit the apartment for more than a few hours?  
He snapped out of it again as the train jerked to a stop. He watched the pig walk out, eyes raking over the blonde's figure. He giggled softly at the look, cringing beneath his facade. 

He walked after him, careful not to get his heels caught in any cracks or divots. The pig slowed down, and Cloud thanked him softly, letting the arm that the man wrapped around his waist slide down farther than what would be considered socially acceptable. He ignored it and just giggled again. The hand in his ass gave a squeeze.

This guy liked the “ditzy” type then. Good to know. 

He stumbled a bit, catching himself before he could fall. He blamed it on the alcohol he had splashed on his shirt and neck with a grin. The pig’s grin widened, and more ideas popped into Cloud's brain. He tugged the man faster in the direction of the tunnel exit, whining about being cold and needing a “handsome man” to warm him up. It was as effective as if Cloud had said they were giving out free money at the top. 

“Nothings ever free, lesson 47.” A bout of mild food poisoning and leaning over a sink while Vincent tied back his shoulder-length hair was connected to that lesson. 

He followed close behind the pig, taking in as many landmarks and posters as possible. A few “Missing people” reports, a 3000 Gil reward for the return of a missing chainsaw, and an article claiming the “Hound of Midgar” was a major threat and criticizing the Shinra company for not deploying more troopers on the street to keep citizens safe. 

Cloud bit his lip again. Either whoever owned that stapler had nowhere else to put their posters, or the Hound themself was quite the prankster. 

The man suddenly speaking caught his attention. “Just a few more blocks, Gorgeous. Then I’ll have you all to myself. No pesky wife, No dumbass kids.” 

Cloud rolled his eyes and tugged the creep’s shirt. “K-kids? How old?” He asked gently. The man glanced between him and the door with a confused face. “3 and 4... why?” Cloud stuck out his tongue in disgust. “I don’t want any brats interrupting our fun~” he purred. The man grinned and threw the door open, pulling Cloud to his chest. “They’re with their whore of a mother, right now. We have the place all to ourselves.” Cloud patted the man's chest, twirling into the room and making his dress fly up. He heard the man adjust his pants and had to hide a gag. Swine.

He looked around a bit longer, taking note of the pricey leather furniture and knife block on the breakfast bar. 

“Lesson 18, brat. Always be aware of your surroundings. The last thing you want to do is be chasing someone through the woods and get your leg caught in a bear trap.”  
“Are you speaking from experience, old man?” 

This would be too easy..  
He turned back to the man, who was waxing poetic about the “original” 500-year-old paintings on his wall. As if. As soon as Cloud got closer, he could see that the canvas was symmetrical. This man wouldn’t know class if it bit his dick.

He pulled the man towards the stairs, stumbling a bit. “Come on~ I need you…” shit, what was this guy's name? “...Sir!~”

The jerk perked up at the title, grinning and loosening his tie. “Sir, honey? You better get ready to take a pounding!” He called after Cloud, who was hurrying up the stairs. The blonde almost fell, clutching a hand over his mouth to hold back a shriek of laughter. Holy shit, was this a joke?!  
He pulled himself together, slipping into what looked like the master bedroom and sitting onto the bed. Lamp on the side table, pair of stilettos in the corner, and potentially the bag he’d asked Aerith to hide in their closets. It helped, having a friend who babysits. 

The blonde called out again, enjoying listening to the fat man struggle going up the stairs after such a long walk from the bar. 

He unbuttoned his shirt, showing off most of his chest but hiding his “breasts” from view. “Come on, big boy, lemme see what you’ve got under that stuffy suit~” he purred. The man quickly complied, practically drooling at the sight of Cloud's open shirt and the way his skirt had hiked up on his thigh when he sat down. He stepped closer to the bed, throwing away his pants, boxers and last chance at escaping.

Cloud dragged the businessman onto the bed on his back, laying his back against Cloud’s chest. He gagged at the amount of sweat on the pig's back but set his hands on his shoulders anyway. “How about a massage, sir?” He asked, his tone turning sultry as his arm crept around the pig's thick neck. “Relax,” he hissed, resting his bicep against the man's arteries.

1...2…

The balding man began to struggle, hands scrambling against Cloud's forearm as his face turned an even brighter red. The blonde's teeth were bared in a bloodthirsty grin, his canine teeth a bit too sharp to be natural.

3...4…

The hands scrambling slowed, falling and bouncing off the bulging stomach of his victim. He tightened his hold.

5...6...7...8.

Cloud released the man pulling his legs out from under the weight and throwing open the double closet doors, pulling the drawstring bag from beneath a pile of purses. He almost broke the strings pulling it open, tugging the thick rope from the bottom of the bag as he heard the man begin to groan and gasp for air. He sneered and grabbed the lamp from the bedside table, thumping it against the back of the man's head twice. The pig fell back to the bed, a bit of blood leaking down through the ring of hair around the man’s head.

Cloud waited a minute. He dropped the lamp and adjusted his thin gloves, turning back to his bag of goodies. He retrieved the rope he’d dropped, and absent-mindedly practiced a few knots as he looked at the man's limp body. A light bulb went off in Cloud’s mind. He had been calling the man a pig all night… “Guess it’s wild west then.” He joked to himself, pulling the man to the ground and rolling him onto his fat stomach with his foot. Cloud grabbed a t-shirt off of the ground and tied it around the man's eyes. 

The next 30 minutes went by quickly, for Cloud. Tying the man up, arms as far back as Cloud could get them on his back (he may or may not have dislocated the man's shoulders), and feet pulled to his back as well. He had only forgotten a few steps, may have looked up a MoogTube video, and had finished within 10 minutes. After that, it was a quick visit downstairs, turning on their radio, sharpening a steak knife (cause honestly, does no one care about their blades anymore?) and jogging back up. He bobbed his head to Electric de Chocobo as he waited. Another 30 minutes, an hour, an hour and a half. He got bored at this point, pulling out his phone to answer a few texts. 

Chat room: Arson, or creative genius?

A, 2:15: Hey Cloud, there're cops on 4th street. Be careful on your way back. 

C, 3:00: Thanks. And who changed the chat name?

A, 3:05: You don't remember going on a rant last night about the Red Mage and how they could “set you on fire” any time they liked?

Cloud looked up at his target as he began to shift.

C, 3:06: No, but I’m 75% sure you’re lying. Gotta go. Be back around 5 or 5:30.

A: AM or PM?

C: PM.

The blonde set his phone down as soon as he saw the checkmark that told him the message had been seen. He turned to the naked man on the ground, grinning and dragging the edge of the steak knife against his ring finger. A bead of blood welled up. Perfect. 

He licked the blood away and wrapped a bandage he’d snatched out of a kitchen drawer around it snugly, looking down at the man. The struggles were increasing, loud groans of pain muffled by the pair of boxers Cloud had shoved into his mouth. “You’re not going to get anywhere, Pig. You’re just making the ropes tighter.” He deadpanned. The man froze, head following Cloud’s voice. The blonde hesitated, before pulling the boxers from the man's mouth. He could always shove them back in. He doubted the man was good enough with his tongue to get them out. And he had duct tape anyway, due to Aerith knowing his style. He crouched next to the man's head. 

“Who are you, and what the hell did you do with my whore?!” The pig shouted. Cloud sneered, drawing his hand back to slap the man. “She’s not a whore!” He spat. “She’s a beautiful woman, Siren. Luring in people overtaken with lust, like you, piggy. And then we finish the job.” Cloud explained. 

The man clenched his fists. “I have friends in high places, you know. They won’t let this stand.” Cloud snorted, standing and turning the man into his side. “If they cared about you, we wouldn’t have been able to get to you. You’d have bodyguards of some sort. No, they’re just using you. And You and those associates of yours. Your wife was quite happy to tell me about those friends of yours.” The blonde purred, running a finger down the rope holding up the man's feet. 

“What’s your name, by the way?” Cloud asked. The fat man sneered. “You don’t know me?! I’m Georg Zillian! I’m a supervisor at the Sector 7 branch of ShinRa!” 

Cloud hummed, plucking the ropes like a string and making his victim hiss as it jerked his shoulders. “Hmm... Zillian, huh? Never heard of you. But you and I are gonna have some fun.” 

The sinister smile came back as Cloud tipped the man onto his back and ripped off the blindfold. “Let’s see if my butchering has improved.”

~~

To say Zack was surprised would be an understatement. When he’d been hired by some shady characters with suits too expensive to work anywhere but Shinra, he hadn’t expected his job to be hard. Pencil pushers don’t get much of a work out after all. (Exclude the fact that he and his four lovers could probably pick up and hold the front end of a Prius for a few minutes) 

He knew Aerith worked for the wife of the man he was supposed to kill as a babysitter, so he’d gone to her for information. When she’d turned him away, telling him that she couldn’t help him, suspicion had, of course, been felt. 

But to find that someone had already killed Zillian, and quite gruesomely at that, was a pleasant surprise. 

The window had been open, so he was inside with just a quick vault over the privacy fence and a curse as he’d bumped his head against the window frame. The smell of blood hadn’t hit him until he was in the living room, noticing the missing knife in the block. It hadn’t been in the sink or the dishwasher. The raven had pulled his weapon from his back, a nail-studded bat tonight, and raised it as he opened the door to the master bedroom. The first step in had resulted in a splash and Zack’s boots being covered in watered-down crimson. 

Georg Zillain, was on his side with his stomach split open and cheeks cut apart, showing off his teeth and tongue. Blood washed across the fake mahogany floors, soaking in like a sponge. The fat that had been covering his body was covering the floor as well, spread amongst his organs. The man was castrated as well. He looked around a bit. Surely they hadn’t taken them with... holy shit. They were fucking duct-taped above the bed. Siren didn’t fuck around...

He moved a bit closer, keeping his ears open for whoever had done this. He knew, however, by the rigid, naked, soaking wet corpse and soft music playing in the background, that they were already gone. The Siren has never been seen. Not yet, at least. Perhaps... the Hound could sniff out the elusive creature? Maybe even meet them. Zack had always liked gaining new friends. Especially ones with the same interests.

He pulled his calling card out of his pocket and placed it on the dresser to the side of the door. A single paw print, in red ink. He looked at the corpse again, whistling at the hogtie, and the disgusting way the man's arms were pulled from their sockets. This kind of artwork had to be honored. He leaned his bat against the wall and ducked out, stomping in a few puddles outside to wash away the blood from his boots, and took off down the street to where he knew a small department store sat. He was in and out within minutes, holding a faux purple rose. 

He set it on top of the calling card, slipped out his Burner phone to snap a picture or the whole scene from the doorway, and slipped out silently. Gen was going to love this. He always enjoyed being a bit eccentric (Arsonists were just like that, Zack guesses), and the Siren's kills always fascinated him. Being able to see this one before the cops and reporters got to it would be a nice gift. Hopefully, they’d forgive him for the rose, but he couldn’t just let artwork like that be unappreciated! 

When he got home and showed Genesis the photo, he was kissed, and they spent half the night chatting about who they thought the Siren would be. Zack speculated a woman, scorned by a past lover who now held a grudge against men. Gen thought of a vengeful woman who experienced unsavory encounters with men in the past and targeted lustful men as a result. They were both scolded by Angeal, who told them to leave the Siren to their own business unless they wanted to be gutted next. Oh, how much he underestimated Zack's curiosity. He should have known the Hound of Midgar would never give up on a scent.


	3. From Me to You, Rhododendron and Butterfly Weed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter came out at 14:57.

Groaning as he entered Seventh Heaven, Cloud walked towards the jukebox. Fight On? No, not in the mood for rock. The Chase? Mm… No, not jazz either. Hip Hop de Chocobo? … Perfect. He tapped the song and bopped for a few seconds before going to the bar.

Tifa was waiting for him there with a drink in her hand. He smiled gaily at the sight of the bright blue concoction. “You just know how to make me feel better after a long-ass night, huh?” He asked, slumping onto a bar stool. Tifa snorted, sliding the drink to him and walking down a few feet to take the order of a nagging old man. “I’ve known you for 5 years. I think I’d know your favorite drink by now,” she scoffed. “Even though I don’t even know your favorite color,” the bar owner added under her breath. 

Cloud frowned, tapping his chewed nails against the glass of his AMF. He had a few false starts before finally muttering, “It’s… It’s red, actually.”  
Tifa frowned and gently grabbed his hand. “Hey, I know talking is hard for you, okay? It’s chill. How about we watch the news?” She winked at him as she hit the power button for the crappy TV in the corner behind the counter. “I wanna see your newest masterpiece.” Cloud chuckled and gulped the neon blue liquid. Tifa shuddered, turning up the volume. “That thing’s so fuckin’ sour. I don’t know how you… Ah! Here it is!” 

“Just a few minutes earlier, authorities were alerted to a new kill, by Midgar’s newest and deadliest murderer. Our very own Siren.”

“That’s right, Jared. At 3 o’clock this afternoon, Mr. Georg Zillian’s wife, Milda Zillian, came home to her husband's body, hogtied and stomach split open. His body was covered in salt water and a small radio that Mrs. Zillian claimed belonged to her niece. It was heard playing the latest hits in rock and roll in the kitchen, just down the hall from Mr.Zillian’s body.”

“I can tell you now, Mira. I’d hate to be-“

“Hold that thought, Jared. We’re getting new information on the murder! Apparently, this wasn’t done by the Siren!” 

Cloud choked on his drink, beating on his chest as Tifa hurriedly brought him a cup of cold water. 

“That’s right folks, the Hound of Midgar’s calling card was found at the scene, with… A fake purple rose! My my, it seems our resident puppy has caught the scent of the Siren!” The reporter exclaimed. 

Cloud jumped as a slim hand landed on his shoulder, Aerith’s amused, green eyes filling his vision. “A purple rose, huh?” She asked. She was holding a pot of violets in one arm. “Do you know what that means, Cloud?” 

The blonde ran through all of the flower knowledge he’d learned from the girl before slowly shaking his head. “Is it something bad,” he whispered, eyeing the old man to his right. He was caught up in telling (yelling) about how youths were corrupting the city and how years ago they would have hunted down these killers themselves. 

Aerith snorted, placing the pot onto the counter before she dropped it in her laughter. “B-bad? Cloud, it symbolizes love at first sight! The Siren probably stole his kill, and the Hound appreciated the carnage.” The gardener snickered before lowering her voice to where only the blonde could hear her. “He’s in my network, you know. He’s not that bad of a guy.”

Cloud’s brows furrowed, and his eyes went back to the TV where they were showing a picture of the rose and the calling card. A single, dark red paw print stark against the pure white card stock. And a pale purple rose, with fake thorns. Fake…

A plan started to form in Cloud’s mind, aided by 4 types of alcohol and sugar. “Fake thorns, huh… What’s his style, Aer?” He questioned; his finger began to circle the rim of his cup. Aerith smirked. “Want an explanation or pictures?” She asked softly. Cloud gave her a smirk. “You know, I always was a visual learner,” he baited. 

A voice rang out from behind him. It taunted, “Who the hell told you that?” Cloud froze, before spinning around with a grin. “Old man, is that you?!” 

Vincent frowned, marching over to sit beside his charge. “I’m only 52...” he grumbled. Tifa’s eyebrows furrowed. “Only?” She mouthed at Aerith. The brunette covered her mouth as she giggled, picking a small violet and handed it to Vincent. “How have you been, Mr. Valentine,” she asked. 

The man watched Aerith’s hand for a few seconds, before reaching out and grabbing the flower in a heavily scarred hand. The man pulled out his wallet. “Fine. Doing research mostly,” he mumbled, counting out 250 Gil and sliding it across the counter. 

Cloud snorted and turned, so he was fully facing his mentor. “That much money doesn't sound like ‘fine’ to me, Vince. What went wrong?” The blonde asked. 

The raven-haired man sneered, lip pulling back to show off an unusually sharp canine. “Four weeks. One month of fucking planning down the drain!” He spat. He grabbed the vodka bottle’s neck as soon as it was set on the counter, crushing the cap as he screwed it off and flung it behind the bar and into a trash can that Tifa wasn’t sure how he knew was there. He began to chug, and Cloud winced. He didn’t want to have to guide a tipsy Vincent all the way home. “Yeah. Stolen kills suck. I just had the credit stolen for one of mine.” The younger man sighed. Vincent slammed the empty bottle on the counter, hairline cracks running up the sides. “By who?” 

Cloud picked his drink back up, taking a sip around his words. “23 seconds. And the ‘Hound of Midgar’ apparently. You know him?” 

Vincent got up from his stool, sparing a glance at the still ranting, old man before returning to the younger. “He’s newer. Works with Shinra, but I don’t know if he’s tied to the company. Rumor is the ‘Rippana’ trained him. Rippana... Honorable, in the language of Wutai. The Hound’s much more… messy, though. Completely different style and, from what the coroners say, never uses the same weapon twice in a row. He’s an enigma, same as the other main 3. If he’s taken an interest in the Siren… could be dangerous.” The elder explained. Cloud hummed and gestured for a refill on his drink.

“The Siren has a plan, though. Surely they can’t stand for their credit being taken by some mutt.” Cloud said stonily. Vincent opened his mouth to reply before Cloud shot him a look. They locked eyes before Vincent’s eyebrow twitched. Aerith and Tifa looked between the two and shared a glance of their own.

Vincent brought a gloved hand to his temples, massaging them. “Just like Claudia,” he sighed. “Fine. Just don’t let this get you into any trouble. I'm going on an ‘expedition’ for a few weeks. No texts, but short calls should be fine. If I’m not back before the month after next, I know you’ll come looking for me anyway, so pack warm clothes.” 

Cloud gave him a thumbs up and looked at Vincent over the rim of his glass. “No trouble, call only for emergencies, month after next come looking for you, warm clothes. Got it, old man.” Vincent gave him a minuscule smile before making a face at his drink. He muttered something about “sour strifes” as he walked out, making Cloud snicker before yelling, “Bye, you geezer! Don’t you dare come back and raid the fridge without saying hello again!” And getting a wave in return. 

Aerith was instantly in his face, showing him a few pictures of the Hound's scenes that made his eyes widen. Holy shit...Love at first sight, huh? He could get behind that...

“So,” Aerith grinned, “what’s the plan?!”

“Depends,” Cloud inquired, “you have his list, Ms. Trumpeter?”

~~

Zack groaned as he was shoved out of his bed, forehead meeting the floor with a “bang!”

A deep voice called out from down the hall, “Genesis, if there’s another dent in the floor, I’m revoking your movie night privilege!”

Genesis, who had decided to betray him, yelled back, “Worth it!”

Zack groaned again as he sat up, letting out a whine as he rubbed the spot his skull hit the floor. “Why do you do this, Gen?” He asked huskily. Genesis grinned and kissed the slowly forming bruise before shoving his PHS in Zack’s face. “Sorry, but you need to see this! The little stunt you pulled with the rose the other day? Pretty sure Sephiroth is still a bit annoyed with you, so you might want to grab him a croissant or something on the way to work. It actually got a response! Watch!” The redhead told. 

The Gogagan hit the play button, violet eyes locked on the subtitles at the bottom. “Maxir Rodan was found killed in his home at 21:45 with his torso torn apart by an unknown weapon. Pieces of gore were splattered across his bedroom walls and ceiling. Police were about to deem it ‘Death by Hound’ before a rawhide bone and… typed note were found on Mr. Rodan’s bed?! The contents of the said note are currently confidential, but police say its tone seemed ‘romantically inclined’ and called the Hound of Midgar a… bad puppy?! What the hell?!” Zack narrated. 

Angeal walked into the room as Zack’s yell faded out, a spatula in one hand. “What’s going on?” 

Zack sputtered, trying to come up with an explanation for this. Genesis beat him to it, snatching his PHS from rough hands and smirking at the younger. “Seems our puppy has accidentally caught the eye of a little Siren~” Genesis mused, showing his phone to Angeal as well. The muscular man's forearms tensed further and further as the video progressed. “What the hell,” he muttered. “That’s what I said!” Zack quipped, running a hand through his hair. “I didn’t know this was gonna happen..” 

Genesis chortled and made his way back over to Zack, who looked guilty. “We’re not angry, Zack. I’m not, at least. I know you didn’t mean for this to happen. Might as well take advantage of it, yes? Who knows, you might even get a new friend from this.” Zack bit his lip, glancing at Angeal apprehensively. The brunette rubbed his eyes, sighing. “Always causing mischief, hmm Puppy? Well… Gen’s right. Better to have Siren infatuated than enraged. Just leave it alone and see how long this goes on for. With any luck, they’ll stop before someone at Shinra decides it’s a danger and cuts you loose.”  
Genesis raised a slim brow, placing his head on top of Zacks. “Cut him loose? And lose him to some other company? Don’t think so, darling.” 

A chime rang out from somewhere in their bedsheets, Zack’s hand reflexively going to his thigh before remembering he was in boxers. “Gen, hand me my PHS, will you?” The redhead complied, practically throwing their blanket to find the device and tossing it to the youngest. An 18 digit lock later, he was looking through his notifications.

“Oh joy.” Zack spat, “More work.” He opened the email and scanned the words. “New target, due to events last night, yada yada yada. Your new target is… The Siren of the Slums?!” He exclaimed. The fucking timing...

Angeal smiled, scarily calm, and returned to the kitchen to finish making breakfast. “Puppy. What’s the second most important thing I taught you?”

Zack thought for a few seconds before snapping his fingers. “A-ha!!”

“There’s no such thing as too much lube!” He blurted. Angeal let out a choked cry and fumbled his spatula, barely managing to catch it as Genesis began to wheeze.  
“No, not the-! sigh. About targets, Zack.”

“Pay attention to any opportunities to strike?” The raven tried again. Angeal nodded and righted himself. “Correct. I think this would be the perfect time to gather a bit of intel on your new target,” Angeal stated, flipping the pancake in his pan.

Genesis hummed and crouched down to look through the email. “Rodan Maxir… wasn’t he on your list?” Zack nodded, standing and leaving his phone with the redhead. “He was going to be my first hit tonight. Guess that’s shot, though… I’ll have to check on any others, see if they’re still kicking.”

Genesis frowned, a hand on his chin. “I think this is more retaliation than showing off for you. You stole the credit for one of their kills, so they stole one of your targets. That is less money in your pocket.” 

Zack thought for a few seconds, before tugging his sweater over his head. “The Siren’s never went for money though. Things have never gone missing in a target’s home or found in alleys or places other than their residences. Wallets there, jewelry intact, even their phones were untouched. Family and friends never noted anything missing on the bodies or their belongings,” he stated. “It wouldn’t be about money or my job. They’re angry that I took credit and wanted to get my attention. To call me out.” The raven froze, halfway through tugging on a pair of dark blue fatigues. “I need to get that note... I need to go below the plate and talk to Aerith.” 

Genesis raised an eyebrow, laying back on the gigantic pile of pillows at the head of their bed with his hands under his neck. “The flower girl? How’s she going to help you?” 

Zack grinned, combing his hair back. “Flower girl? You clearly haven’t been listening to my stories about her then,” he exclaimed, turning to grin at his lover. “Do I look alright?”

“Same as always, Puppy.” The arsonist yawned. “And why should I listen to you yammer on about some girl below the plate. If anything, I should be offended you’re not yammering on about one of us.” 

Zack rolled his eyes and gave the eccentric man a kiss on the lips, pulling away to smirk. “Because then, you’d know that she’s the one that I get that wonderful sedative from. You know, the one you borrow all the time without asking?” The man teased.  
Genesis’s eyes widened, sitting up onto his elbows. “She’s the fucking ‘Angel’s Trumpeter’?! Why didn’t you say so!” 

Zack huffed, turning his back to Genesis to tie his boots. “I did say so, you ass. Multiple times. Almost every time I talk about her. Just for that, I’m rehiding my bottle of her sedative.” Zack said as he walked out of the bedroom. He gave Angeal a kiss on the cheek as Genesis chased after him, catching him around the waist and twirling him. “Come on, Puppy! That stuff works way better than the shit Shinra gives us!” The man whined. Zack laughed and shoved the man's arms from his waist. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll think about it.” 

He reached for the doorknob as Genesis sang his praises, kissing his cheek. A large hand caught his shoulder when he was halfway out the door. It was Angeal, holding two small plastic bags, one with a chocolate-filled croissant and another with an egg sandwich. Zack perked up, opening the bag with the sandwich to smell it. “Does this one have the homemade sausage or the store-bought?” He asked. “Store-bought, but we’re having roasted loin tonight,” Angeal stated; a smile was on his face. Zack smiled back and gave him a kiss. He separated a few seconds later and practically ran down the stairs. “See you guys tonight!” He shouted. A “love you, see you later!” was called out in reply. 

“Alright,” Zack thought, “See Aerith, get more of that fucking unholy fast sedative, and Casually ask if she can get that note. You got this, Fair.” 

~~

“So,” Zack asked, “what do you think of the Siren?” 

Aerith smiled shakily, and the blonde to Zack’s left spat out his drink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Source: allflorist.co.uk and "Flower Meanings: The Language of Flowers" by Catherine Boeckmann)  
> Rhododendron: Danger, Beware, I am dangerous  
> Butterfly Weed: Let me go


	4. The Hunt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Zack is Horny™️

Zack jerked, patting the guy on the back as he coughed. “Jeez, you okay,” he asked. The blonde nodded, head down towards the bar as he made a thumbs up in Zack’s direction. 

Violet eyes narrowed, and he glanced around the bar. No one but the two men at the bar, and the two women behind it. “Hey, Aerith. How do you know this guy?” Zack questioned casually. “That’s Cloud! He’s an old friend of Tifa’s!” Aerith chirped. 

She leaned a bit closer, making the raven’s brows furrow. “He’s not much of a talker, okay? I tried talking to him one time and he kinda.. broke down. Don’t bother him, okay? He’s as clean as can be; practically lived by himself, no crimes or felonies, not even detention.” Aerith whispered. 

Zack’s brow stayed furrowed in thought, glancing back to the guy. He seemed nervous, holding his drink with both hands and staring down at it like he was about to have a panic attack. His eyes latched onto the way the guy’s hands were shaking. Damn.. ”not much of a talker” wasn’t even close. This was straight up anthropophobia. 

Aerith caught his attention by tapping his arm and pulling him to the back room, where a few of her plants were sitting under a sun lamp. She sat on a stool next to a large desk with tools and stacks of paper. Target research, Zack assumed. “So,” the flower girl started, “What’s got you so interested in the Siren?”

The man chuckled and sat backward on the rolling chair across from Aerith, resting his head on the chairs back. “You’re saying you haven’t seen the news recently? Whoever they are, they wanna play a game. And I’m willing to participate.” Zack purred. He flexed his fingers. Oh, he wanted to play, alright.

Aerith's smirk turned a bit more sinister. “Play, huh? I may have a few tidbits of info. What else do you want, though? I saw you eyeing my passionflower when you walked in.”  
Zack leaned back in his chair and rubbed the back of his neck, sheepishly. “Caught me. I was wondering if you made more of that sedative yet. Gen used the last of mine a couple of days ago. You still have that internship at the police station too, right?”  
Aerith pouted at the question, standing and walking to a shelf a few feet away from Zack’s right. “What, you think my cover isn’t good enough? Of course, I do.” She stated, picking up two small bottles. She tossed both to Zack before crossing her arms and grinning. “You want a copy of that note, don’t you?” The assassin froze, before bursting out laughing. “Is there anyone you can’t read,” He exclaimed. “Only three,” She joked. “Well, one of those has got to be Seph,” Zack affirmed. She nodded, walking back to her seat and flattening her skirt. “I don’t know anyone who can read him.”

“And the other two?” 

She winked at him. “That’s for me to know and you to never find out.” 

Zack smiled and rolled his eyes. “Yeah yeah. Now, what can you tell me about Siren?”

Aerith pulled out her phone. “More like what I can show you. I’ve only talked to them a few times.” 

“Wait wait wait,” he exclaimed, “you’ve talked to them?! I was just hoping for stuff you’ve heard around the slums!” Aerith flushed, before sputtering our “W-well we haven’t talked about her or anything! Mostly just girl stuff!” She laughed anxiously. “Dresses, make-up… guys.” 

Zack raised an eyebrow. “Guys? The Siren’s got a crush?” Aerith froze before she started laughing loudly. “Y-you could say that,” she got out eventually. Zack was quiet for a few seconds before shrugging. “If you say so. What other stuff have you ladies talked about then?”  
Aerith’s smile looked a bit more natural now. “Mainly about my flowers! And of course their properties.” the woman cooed. As she said this, she turned to a pot of poppies on the ground and brushed her fingers over the red petals. The raven nodded, looking up as the door opened. 

It was Tifa, carrying two drinks. One was a plain cup of ice water, and the other a Rum Rickey. Zack grinned and grabbed the alcohol/soda combination, taking a sip. He thanked the brunette before turning back to Aerith. “Okay, so now that we’ve got refreshments, lemme see those pictures!” 

The gardener chuckled and turned her phone screen to face Zack, who whistled. This was clearly a police photo, with a small plaque on the ground, with the number 3 on it. 

It was a man hanging from the ceiling, hangs up, tied and strung up by a hook in the ceiling. Kind of like….”Is that bondage rope?!” Zack exclaimed. Aerith burst out laughing, nodding frantically. “Yep!”  
Zack moved his seat a bit closer. The body was naked as well and… he gulped. Castrated…  
“Did they find his balls?” He asked. Aerith pulled her phone back, zooming in on something. “See those stitches in his stomach?”  
Zack’s eyes widened. “You mean-?!”  
“Yep.” Aerith swiped to the next photo. It was a picture of the guy's body on an autopsy table. The man's stomach was cut open, and there his genitals lay. A bit burned from stomach acid, as well. “They said Siren did it while he was still alive, too! The temperature of his liver didn’t match up with the amount of damage done to his testicles.”

Zack sat up straighter. This was way worse than tying a guy up and disemboweling him...  
A wicked grin grew on his face. Siren was shaping up to be quite the character...  
“While he was awake, huh? I like her style...”

Zack took a sip of his drink, grin growing. “You got her list?” 

Aerith frowned. “Nope. She’s tight-lipped about her targets, but she goes after sexual assaulters of all kinds. Abusers too. Her best work was on a pedophile that had been terrorizing the sector 5 children for years. Police still haven’t found all of her body, and the Siren isn’t fond of taking trophies. Sadly, I don’t have a pic of that one.”

Zack hummed. “I think I’ve got a good grasp on her style… thanks, Aer. You’re almost as good as Kunsel.” He teased, shooting her a wink. The brunette giggled and took a sip of her water. “Just from that?” 

The assassin smirked. “You can tell a lot about a person from their scenes. For example,” Zack pointed at the phone screen, specifically the slice to the man's crotch. “This is a clean cut. Obviously calculated..” His finger moved to a slice on the man’s chest. “This one, however, was not planned. You can see from the splatter on the wall behind him, that the slice was erratic. He probably tried to get off the hook somehow, after all that, and Siren got spooked and took a swipe. Based on the cut, too. It’s thin at one end and thicker at the other. It was probably a piece of broken glass or porcelain, though porcelain doesn’t break well. It was probably from a framed painting or something like that.” Zack guesses. Aerith’s eyes widened. “Man… if you were a cop, we’d all be fucked.” She blurted. The man cackled, leaning back. “Well, then you better be happy that I don’t agree with the system. My first scene was a homophobic cop, actually. He gave a 15-year-old a broken leg and black eye cause he was holding hands with his best friend.” He hissed. He flexed his leg, thinking of the scar on his skin. Compound breaks fucking sucked.

Aerith nodded, standing. “Well then. You’ve got what you needed. Anything else I can help with, Hound?” 

Zack shook his head. “Nah, I’m fine for now as long as Gen leaves my bottle of your sedative alone. Though I do have a question!” 

Aerith hummed, promoting Zack to ask:  
“What was blondie out there drinking?” 

Aerith chuckled and motioned for Zack to follow her to the bar area. The blonde was gone, and almost every sign of him ever being there. Even the fingerprints on the counter were wiped away. The glass was still there, with the straw missing.

“It’s called an ‘Adios, Motherfucker.’” 

~~

Zack shuffled through his locker, crouched. Kunsel stood next to him, leaning against his locker. A hood covered the top half of his face. 

“Sexual assaults, huh?” The brunette asked, “What? Someone went after your chick or something?” Zack scowled and pulled a gas mask from the bottom of his locker. “Nope. But my hit goes after those dicks, and in the last month, she’s killed two, both Shinra, both higher than manager status. The only way she could have found out since Shinra buys out any news stations so they won’t report on the victims, the assholes, is to find out from the victims. If I can find out who’s been accused recently, I can trace it back to when they were accused. Any accusations from over a month ago mean plenty of time for planning. Which means they’ll be gone. Soon. Which means I can corner Siren and either get her to convert to Shinra, which I’d rather not do, or kill her, which I don’t want to do either. Jobs a job, but overall she just seems like a person trying to get revenge for some unfortunate people in bad situations. Rumor is she’s gone after a few spouse and child abusers too.”

Kunsel’s lips twitched. “Damn. That’s like… half the people on the upper floors.” The man huffed. Zack nodded, standing and pulling out a small belt, holding three throwing knives. “Exactly. You and I have our work cut out for us.” The man grumbled, running his thumb over the blade’s edges. They’d need to be sharpened.

His mysterious friend's face moved; he’d probably raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t those a little too… how do I put this... ‘clean’ for your style?” Zack snorted. He tucked the blades back into the belt. “They’re not what I’d normally use, but projectiles aren’t a bad idea if I want to have a better chance. Especially with a special something covering the blade.” He said. Kunsel let out a small “Hmm” of understanding and left it at that. 

“I’ll get started on that list then, Hound.” The man affirmed. Zack gave him a knock of recognition. “Any with more than 3 accusation reports, text the person’s information to me. Name, address, photos of family members. I don’t wanna end up slicing a housekeeper.”

“I’ll stake out each house and maybe set up some cameras. I’ll follow any unfamiliar women going in and coming out in different or bloody clothes. If they seem clean, then I’ll stop,” Zack thought. With a plan in mind, he went to a nearby safe house to wait for the ringtone specific to the informant. Time to prowl the streets of the upper plate. He’d never had to wait before… it’d be an exciting test to his patience. 

~~

10 hours, 47 minutes, 21.3 seconds. “Definitely not a new record for Kunsel, but not his worst,” Zack whispered. It was a list of five people, three of them managers and two of them heads of the company’s whole divisions. He scrolled through it absently, the third one catching his attention. Head of Accounting, 45, cheating on her significant other with the dog walker, and 6 accounts of sexual harassment, two claims of sexual assault in the last two months. What a sleazebag. 

Zack stood, wiping at the dirty water from the whetstones he’d been using. A second later, the addresses of each person popped up in his PHS. High class. Probably suburban. They’d be suspicious if he randomly pulled up. Even harder to place a camera and not have it be seen. Someone would notice it being put in their yard… Damn. Siren better be there...

He set off, easily jumping over small alleyways, something Angeal had repeatedly scolded him for despite the gaps barely being 2 feet until he landed in the middle of a backstreet with a groan. A tarp was pulled off a motorcycle, and Zack was gone 10 seconds later, roaring down Midgar’s side streets. His black hair flowing freely, something all of his lovers had bagged him about. 

It was almost 20 minutes near midnight. Zack parked his bike a few streets away and shambled his way up a surprisingly strong pipe across the street from his target's house in the branches of a neighbor's apple tree.

He was halfway done when a fucking AUDI pulled up in front of the house. Two women stumbled out, clearly drunk. One was carrying a large duffel and was talking to the other woman enthusiastically about some “art project” if he heard correctly. He recognized one as the target, but the other, talking about art… not the dog walker, not the woman’s significant other… hmm. Zack pulled himself the rest of the way into the apple tree, wincing as a few fruits fell to the ground. The blonde whipped around, faster than someone truly drunk should be able to, and bright blue eyes met his violet.

The raven hissed, thinking he was caught before the woman turned and walked away either choosing to ignore him or maybe- how could she not see him?! He shook it off and watched her closely. Her shoulders were a bit too wide to be considered feminine, and she had plenty of muscle beneath the shawl she was wearing. Her hips were a bit wide, and her waist… god damn her waist. Zack could probably wrap his hands around it, and his second knuckles would overlap. It was tiny! And from what he’d seen of her face, framed by long blond hair, she was gorgeous. God damn if she was the Siren wouldn’t blame these people for falling into such an obvious trap. 

He blinked the stars from his eyes and returned to the camera. “You’ve got three wonderful boyfriends, and you get nailed on the reg, Fair. You have no reason to be this horny.” He hissed to himself. But those fucking legs… Focus damn it!

He secured the camera, tugging it a few times, before leaning against the trunk of the tree, tugging down an apple that looked ripe and opening the camera feed on his phone. It was clear now, but the moment he was out of this tree, it was probably going to be a bit more staticky. The farther he got, the worse it would be. He zoomed in on the window, feeling like a perv as he looked through the gap in the curtains. The man huffed, barely able to see the two women conversing, the head of accounting getting handsy with the blonde, who was clearly into it.

Zack frowned. He really didn’t want to watch these two have sex… He almost turned the feed off when a scream rang out from the house, making him choke and pound on his chest until he could breathe again. Zack scrambled down the tree to where he’d dropped his phone, ignoring the newest crack in the screen as a purse was chucked at the blonde, who… Was that a knife?! He cursed as the curtains were drawn closed, a bloody smear left on the fabric. His eyes widened. If he could get a sample of that..he rushed across the street, ducking behind the Audi as the blonde poked her head out and slapped a piece of paper on the front door. What the fuck...

He walked up to the door, crawling beneath the windows before getting to the door. He read the note, slamming a hand over his mouth to keep from cackling. 

“Watching a horror movie marathon, sorry for any screams! We’ll apologize for any disturbances tomorrow! - Your neighbors, Catherine and Ivory Saceen.”

Simple, but effective. The Hound was impressed. 

Zack left it there before slinking his way around to the back, ducking under a few more windows and getting his pant leg caught in a rose bush, before making his way to the backdoor. 

He had done a hit here a few years ago, one of his first, and all of the backdoors had the same shitty lock on the window. Why there was a window on a door, Zack didn’t know. Designers were weird like that. He stuck a thin knife in and jimmied it open, the window coming outwards as he stuck his hand in, undoing the deadbolt and flimsy door lock. Too easy. He pushed the door open and closed behind him. 

He reached down to pet a cat, even finding the treats and giving the little thing a few. He’d let Siren have her fun. The director was a menace, and Zack didn’t precisely disapprove of Siren’s methods. He tossed one and watched the cat catch it as another scream rang out, before a sickening crunch and a curse, in a voice almost too deep to be feminine. The Hound hummed, before shrugging. Siren has a deep voice. Good to know. 

He waited until most of the wet noises and whimpers stopped before he walked down the hall from the kitchen to the living room. He peeked around the corner. Siren had her back turned, hoisting the woman up by a rope around her waist. She was hunched over, like a puppet without strings. Her feet were cut off and sloppily stitched back on with wire, same with her knees, hands, and elbows. Her eyes were gouged out, and breasts pulled up and together, like the way Jessica Rabbits were. A thin sheet of flesh-colored plastic had also been melted over her crotch, making it seem like she had no genitals. He must’ve been spot on with the puppet analogy. Stepping forward carefully, keeping away from the broken ceramic, he kept his eyes on the assassin.

He pulled out one his throwing knives, raising it just as his target whipped around, blond hair and pale face caked in blood and gore. Pure blue eyes widened before a nailed bat was suddenly pulled out of the duffel. Zack cursed and threw his blade. It sliced Siren's calf, making her curse. Her eyes stayed locked with his. 

“The Hound.” She crooned, running her fingers over the handle of her bat. “You’re gonna be disappointed if you think I’m being pulled out of here in a body bag.” 

The Hound grinned, baring sharp teeth. “Maybe not in a body bag, but you’re certainly not getting out of here without me sinking my teeth into you at least once.”

The woman smirked, winding her arms back for a swing. “We’ll see about that, Puppy.” 

Zack blanked. Well, shit..”You’re just checking all of my boxes, aren’t you, doll?”


	5. Tuberose and Gloxinia, Beware Death’s Door

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vincent ain’t fuckin around. 
> 
> 爸爸- Father/Dad
> 
> 小狗- Pup/Puppy
> 
> 狼- Wolf
> 
> Tuberose- Dangerous Pleasure
> 
> Gloxinia-Love at first sight

Siren let out a short huff of laughter, widening his stance. “Doll, hmm? I always did like toys. Perhaps I’ll give those friends at Shinra of yours a stuffed puppy to play with.” 

The man let out a bark of laughter. “You just have a comeback for everything, don’t you cutie?”

The blonde scowled and tightened his grip. “It’s not hard when your opponent has the IQ of a chimp and the grace of a lemur in a china shop.” He took a swing, a nail catching on his opponent’s pants and leaving a gouge. 

His fellow hitman pouted, with a hiss. “What’s with all the monkey analogies?”

Siren rolled his eyes. That’s what you choose to focus on? “Shut it. What are you here …” his eyes widened. The black hair and scar on his cheek..“You… you’re the man that I saw leaving the bar earlier!” 

The raven's eyes squinted in suspicion as he returned Siren’s swings with one of his own, catching the “woman’s” thigh with the tip of his knife and leaving a deep slice. “Bar...I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Siren bared his teeth, pointing his bloodied bat at the man’s dumb face. “Yeah right! You left the bar with a box of cheese fries!” 

He could see the Hound’s face pale, and a large hand landed on the man's own nape.

Siren shook off the thought of “..cute” that popped into his mind and instead kicked out with his barefoot. It caught the man in the ribs, making him stumble back a bit. “What are you here for, Hound?! Did I steal your kill or something?” He smirked, bright red lips parting to show unnaturally sharp incisors, “Another kill, I mean?”

The Hound snorted, letting his hand fall to his side. A machete was strapped to his thigh. Siren’s smirk softened to a slight frown as he backed up a bit. “Talk, Hound.” His smirk returned as his tongue ran over his lips. “If I’ve wronged you somehow, perhaps we can… strike a deal?”

The Hound grinned back at him, cracking his knuckles, drawing his weapon, and walking forward. “Oh, I don’t think you have anything I’d want, Siren. I’ve already got a pretty thing waiting for me at home. A few handsome things, too.”

Siren growled in the back of his throat, hissing as porcelain dug into his arched. “So this Hound I’ve heard all about is a cheater, huh? Disgusting.” He swung out with his bat, growling as his bar was caught against a chipped blade

The raven huffed, pulling his weapon from the wood. “Now, now, who said anything about cheating?”

Siren’s pencil-thin brows furrowed. “Did I hear you wrong? ‘Things’ is plural, Pup.” He glanced up at the chandelier his victim hung from and the wire that held it up. Still strong. He continued moving.

The man stalking towards him snorted. “Man, I’m from way out of town, and even I’ve heard of polyamory.”

Siren glanced at the bloody footprints he was leaving on the ground. The Hound glanced at them too, smirking. “My my. So the Siren bleeds red like the rest of us.”

The blonde reached out behind him after a few more paces, fingers brushing against the bedroom door frame. “What color were you expecting? Neon pink?” He scoffed. “And no. It’s not a term I’m familiar with.”

The Hound stretched his arms above his head, porcelain crunching under his heavy boots. “If I’m entirely honest, the way some people spoke of you, I was expecting ichor.”

Siren smiled, walking a bit faster with his light blue sundress fluttering at the breeze he’d created. He swung out once, being blocked once more by a thick blade. “Oh?~ I’m flattered, mutt. Though as you can see, the stories are incorrect. So if you could just wander off back to your owner, that’d be much appreciated.” He brushed his fingers over the silk sheets he had lain in not too long ago, smiling at their chill. A rush of cold air swept over said bare shoulders, making the blonde sigh as it calmed him, and the Hound shiver. The man tugged his coat a bit tighter.

Siren huffed out a laugh, pretending to shake harshly in the breeze. “Aww, is it too cold for the poor, poor Puppy?” 

Zack growled and clenched his hand around the machete handle. “You don’t know cold, blondie.”

Siren hissed, reaching behind himself to wrap his hands around the window frame. “Tell me, Mutt. Have you ever seen your own toes turn blue? Have you ever seen someone’s foot become so frozen when they tripped it shattered? You’re the one that doesn’t know the meaning of cold.”

He saw his chance as the man balked, vaulting over the window. A bark of surprise followed behind him as a machete met the wrist connected to the windowsill. The blonde quickly let go, yelling, and took off, glad he’d decided this woman wasn’t worth any part of Tsurugi. His winced as his bare, sliced feet skidded across the concrete, bleeding thigh quivering as it barely supported his weight. 

He could head the Hound following behind him, heavy pounding against the ground hitting Siren’s ears. He cursed, turning sharply and skinning a knee on a gravel driveway. He scrambled up a ladder leaning against a half-painted house, face twisting as pieces of gravel met bloody pottery. He listened carefully as the Hound’s weight made the ladder creak. The Siren smirked. What a dumbass. He’d be lucky to not fall through someone’s roof.

He ran faster on the slanted surface, panting, chest heaving. He wheezed at hearing the Hound’s heavy boots slipping on the house's shingles. 

As his dress fluttered behind him, he was glad he had the sense to wear shorts beneath it. 

The familiar glint of his bike caught his eye, parked next to a close contact’s house. His eyebrows furrowed, the wind roaring in his ears as adrenaline pounded through his body.

The Siren has never been happier for his strong, long legs, as he listened to the Hound hesitate and curse while jumping from rooftop to rooftop. 

He slid down a bare flag pole in some rich bastard’s front yard, groaning as his non-bloody thigh rubbed against the pole with a high pitched squeal. A key was pulled from his neck and shoved into the ignition as heavy boots clanged against the metal pole. Siren cackled as he took off, turning around to wink as the hound watched him go, hands on his knees, and panting in the middle of someone’s begonias.

He turned back around as the Hound faded into a speck. Based on the style of the houses around them, he was 5 minutes outside the main city, 10 to the nearest safe house. A glance down at the red oozing into his sundress. Going back to an empty house could be dangerous. 

The man pulled over in an alley, throwing open his side bag to pull out a fuck ton of gauze he hastily pressed to his thigh and wrist. Tifa or Aerith? No, they’re on a date. No need to ruin that with a near-death experience. Even if they’d be upset with him not telling them… ah well.

His mind tumbled through all of his nearby contacts. Those within the city, at least. No one was willing to swing by this late. None he even trusted enough to know the location of one of their safe houses, in fact. 

The blond pulled out his phone with a stronger wince. This counted as an emergency, didn’t it?

He dialed the oldest number in his phone, one he’d know for over a decade. 

“Hey,... Vince? I know you’re kinda… busy. But I got a few slices too deep to look at myself, and I was just… hopin’ you could come back a bit sooner than planned…” he drawled.

A deep voice growled over the phone. “You met him, huh. You’re lucky I had to come back for something. I’ll be there soon, 狼. Which house.”

Cloud winced as he wrapped bandages around the gauze. “The one closest to the rich neighborhood, on the eastern upper plate.” 

A hum in reply. “Good. How deep are the wounds?”

Cloud smiled at the sound of metal boots on concrete. He almost listed off his bike’s side, whining in the back of his throat as pressure was placed on his gouged foot and bleeding thigh. “Deep enough to see muscle… should probably hurry, 爸爸.”

Cloud heard the deep inhale at the Wutaian. The footsteps got faster. Cloud whimpered as the pain began to reaffirm itself, adrenaline leaving the blonde feeling drained and vulnerable in the dead of night. 

“Where are you now, 狼?”

Cloud looked around him, eyes landing in a small corner store. “Near the store you commission rounds for Cerberus from.” He whispered. 

Vincent cursed. “That’s almost a block away, Cloud. And you’re sure it’s muscle.”

Cloud pouted, putting more pressure on his leg. “Remember that time we killed a malboro together, and I got that really deep wound on my left thigh from one of the tentacles?”

“Shit, kid. I’m almost there. Another two minutes tops.”

Cloud nodded. He realized Vincent couldn’t see it and gave a hum of acknowledgment instead. “Okay, 爸爸.” He slumped forward against the handlebars. “Hurry… I’m getting tired… and cold. I’m from Nibelheim. Shouldn’t be cold, 爸爸.”

Vincent cursed again, and Cloud could vaguely hear footsteps behind him echoed through his phone's speaker. “You won't be cold for much longer, 小狗.” A deep voice said in Cloud’s ear. The blond looked up, smiling at his father figure’s red eyes. “Hi, 爸爸.” He croaked. His eyes fell shut slowly, as arms scooped him up. “I missed you.”

Vincent smiled minutely as he took off again, eyes locked on the apartment building. It was a straight shot. “It was only one week, 小狗. Barely even that.” 

Cloud pouted, eyes still shut as his fingers dug into a blood red cloak. “So?”

Vincent exhaled a laugh. “You got me there, 小狗.”

He pulled out his PHS as Cloud slumped further into his arms. “Cid? Change of plans.”

Cloud awoke to bandages wrapped snugly around, what felt like stitches, on both his arm, foot, and wrist. As well as a comedy skit playing on the TV, and Vincent eating ice cream out of the tub.

He moved to sit up before a non-gauntleted hand pressed him back down onto the couch. “Rest, Cloud. If I see you walking within the next 3 days, you’re being sedated. Don’t make us repeat the malboro incident.” His trainer urged.

Cloud crossed his arms carefully, choosing to focus on the TV instead of the pale face before him. “That was one time…”

Vincent raised an eyebrow. “Out of 4.”

The blonde sputtered. “Wh-no! No!!”

The elder gave a look of disbelief, before pointing to the side table next to the couch. “Give me your PHS. Now.”

Cloud blanked. “My PHS..?” He handed it to the man warily. “What are you-“

The raven opened it with his middle fingerprint and a small smirk. “You say no, but I know you take pictures of all of your wounds and bruises to look back on. I don’t know for what reasons, but I know you have a picture of each- here. You even have it in a separate folder titled ‘major injuries.’”

Cloud snatched his phone from the other man as the assassin started chuckling. “You mean old man! Fine, I’ll stay in bed!”

“Good.” Vincent stood. “I’m going out, but Aerith will be here in 5 minutes to look after you while I go interrogate someone.”

Cloud’s brows furrowed, watching Vincent slip on his metal boots. “Interrogate? I thought you didn’t go after information.”

Vincent latched the armor. “This isn’t for a job, 小狗. This is more of a… personal interest.”

Cloud flushed at the old nickname. “I’m not a puppy! Go interrogate your victim. I hope they’re smelly!” He stuck his tongue out. 

Vincent was silent before he stood and grabbed Cerberus from the holster set on the couch’s arm, next to his charges bandaged feet. “Like a wet dog.” He murmured. 

He marched out before Cloud could really comprehend what he said.

When Angeal received a text from Zack saying he was being tailed, he expected cops. Not whatever the hell this was.

He scowled as he faced down the business end of a three barreled sawed-off shotgun. “Can’t we just talk about why you’ve got my partner pinned to a wall?” He asked. He shoved his machete back into its sheath on his back. 

Death gave him a cold stare. “Your mutt went after Siren. I do not appreciate my apprentice being targeted by such a dim-witted, muck of an assassin.” He deadpanned. “I do not wish to injure your partner. But shall he injure the Siren again, I will not be as merciful.” He threw the fellow raven to Angeal’s feet, groaning and clutching his ribs.

One of Zack’s eyes was swollen, three teeth missing based on the man's grimace, and at least four broken ribs based on the painting of purples and blues on the man's side, his shirt torn open. 

The reaper gave Angeal one long, lasting glare, before climbing the wall to their left, clawed gauntlet gouging the brick and vanishing into the night with barely the sound of footsteps. 

Angeal made sure he wasn’t coming back, before crouching and picking up Zack as carefully as possible. The Pup groaned at the sudden shift, wrapping his arms around Angeal’s neck and setting his head on a broad shoulder. 

It was silent nearly the entire way back to their home, before- “You don’t think they’re… together do you Angeal?”

The older man raised an eyebrow. He thought for a few seconds, before sighing. “I don’t know, Puppy. Ask next time.”

He could practically hear the cogs in Zack’s head turning until he settled, gears creaking. “I need to get that note.” The raven murmured. Minutes later, he passed out in his lover's arms.


	6. A Horrible Appetite

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We see some Angeal and some Sephy in this!! And something that’s been hinted at a few times is revealed~
> 
> Also! Warning for Cannabalism! Thank you to those in the comments who suggested this <3

Cloud scowled as he shambled into Seventh Heaven, crossing the room easily with crutches. He swung himself over to the Jukebox. 

He scrolled for a few seconds before pressing “Lurking in the Darkness” with an annoyed expression. A cymbal rang out immediately. The hooded blonde nodded his head for a few seconds before moving to his usual stool and laying his head on the table, wincing as he moved his wrist. “Damn,” he hissed. 

Tifa gave him a concerned look and grabbed a few bottles, mixing together Cloud’s recent favorite, a Caramel Apple Sangria. She added double the vodka, sliding it to him. The man let out a high whine as it bumped his head, making Tifa frown harder. 

“Cloud...you alright, bud?” She asked softly, inching towards him. The blonde shook his head and grabbed the alcohol. He was seconds away from taking a sip when Vincent slammed the door open and threw something at the cup to make it break, the clear plastic splitting open at the bottom and pouring down Cloud’s left arm. 

The blonde spun around with a growl, before seeing it was his father figure and letting out a groan. The taller man marched over and (gently) smacked Cloud on the back of the head. “You can’t drink VODKA when you’re on PAIN MEDICATION!” The assassin growled. “How did you even get past the baby gate?! I thought you didn’t know how to work it?!” 

Cloud huffed and set his head back into the puddle of alcohol and fruit juices. “I looked it up, Old man. You have no power, now.” 

Vincent’s eyebrows furrowed at seeing how clearly upset his charge was, making him sit up and wiping the alcohol from his hair and face. He grumbled something about power drills and padlocks before heaving out a heavy sigh. “小狗, I know you feel bound. I don’t want to keep you in our home. Trust me. You break all of our glasses and hide when the microwave beeps until I find you, no matter how much I coax you to come out. But you’re injured. If you’re going to go out, at the very least, tell me where you’re going, how long it will take you to get there, get what you need, and get back.” 

Cloud huffed, placing his head on his non-wounded wrist. “Mmmmmm… Fine. As long as I can do research on the “problems” for later.” He proposed. 

Vincent ran a hand down his face, glancing around the bar to see who had caught on. Most people were staring at his gauntlet and foot armor instead, making him shift uneasily. “Fine. Just no contact with any.”

Cloud turned to give him a tiny smile. “Deal, Old Man. Now go. I can see you trembling beneath your cloak.”

Vincent grumbled something and left, before giving Tifa a harsh stare. “No. Alcohol.” He hissed. The woman nodded swiftly and set about making Cloud a blackberry mint mocktail, which the blonde took a slow sip of. His eyes closed for a few seconds as he drank greedily, swinging himself over here from a block away made him quite parched. 

He listened to Vincent leave before slamming the glass and running his fingers through his hair with a groan. “This suuucks! Next time I see that bastard, I’m gonna rip his tail off.” He spat. “Or maybe something a bit more important to him. Like his dick.” 

A few men around the bar winced, even Barret who Cloud knew as a “man's man” as the large man had put it. Someone ran alcohol and certain weapons commissions past the guards and police situated at the plate entrances. As well as for his adorable daughter Marlene, who Cloud had once saved from a small gang who had tried to sell her as a “pet.”

Cloud had skinned them, stretched their own flesh to use as rope, and hanged them from the flagpole in front of the sexually assaulted victims refuge building in Sector 4. 

“clou…Cl...d!”

Of course, it had scared a few children, and women in the place, but it was for their own good, Cloud thought. They should know now so that when they grow up, they know he’s out there. And what will happen if he catches you? There will be no mercy for them.

“Cloud!”

The blonde glanced up from his thoughts to look up at his childhood acquaintance, now friend, and gave her a head tilt. “Mm? What’s up?”

Tifa raised an eyebrow and kept scrubbing the rim of a glass to get the lipstick stains and whitish film of something dissolved at the bottom off of it. “You zoned out, dude. Started getting this super dark look on your face.”

Cloud hummed and looked back at his drink. He eyed around the room, landing on the old man he’d seen here the last few times. 

He was looking at an old photo of a woman and child on the back of a Chocobo. His eyes were glistening. 

Cloud looked away as a tear ran down the man's cheek. He placed 50 Gil on the bar and nodded to the man, Tifa catching on and pulling down a sealed bottle of aged whiskey. 

Cloud hummed and took a sip of water. 

Slowly… Slowly, he’d make up for things he’d done. He regretted nothing, but the gods were just either way. Hel could do what she wanted with him, as long as Cloud took down who he could with him and helped fill her Halls of the Damned. 

The man stood, grabbing his crutches. He winced as the flesh of his palm was pressed down painfully, but he ignored it and went to the back. “I’m taking my clothes.” He murmured to Tifa. 

The brunette gave him a silent nod and finally poured the old man his whiskey. If the tears streaming faster were any indication, he enjoyed it.

Siren took in a deep breath as she left the train car, limping along carefully down the stairs. She'd abandoned her other crutch in the back of the bar, only using one to support her wounded thigh. 

She flipped her blond hair from her eyes and made her way past from the station, winking at a few teens who flushed and whispered compliments, and sneering at those who dared to whistle at her. She rejected any help but said thank you for the offer. She flipped off anyone who called her a “cripple,” showing off sharpened canines. 

The beautiful being made her way down the road, looking up and admiring the tall buildings. And many, many alleys. 

Her flats clicked on the cobblestone, making her smile as the clicking synced with the sway of her thin salmon drop waist dress. 

Her ears twitched at the sound of near-silent wet sounds flowing out from a weakly alley. She’d initially been going to case a target’s house, but…

Sliding into the alley, mouthing a curse as it thinned out, she mused. “Either I’m about to walk on someone having a good time, or I may just have to greet another ‘artist.’” 

The alley was short and opened into a sort of circular back area with doors leading into a few of the office buildings surrounding it. 

Immediately, a metallic tang hit her nose. She licked her lips and hid her crutch in a large crate of cardboard boxes. 

Stalking forward, she eyed the familiar machete in the man's hands. But… eyes narrowed as they roved over the man's wide, wide shoulders and thick chest. Bulging biceps and thighs thicker than Siren’s head. 

“You’re not the puppy~,” she trilled.

Sawing motions halting, the man spun around, machete raised. Blood was splattered across his hand, yet none on his face or chest.

Siren tilted her head. “Mm, a lot less messy though~.”

The brunette straightened up a bit from his defensive position at seeing his… rather tiny opponent. “You….” He seemed hesitant. He even took a tiny step back.

Siren chuckled and stepped closer slowly, thinking about the knife strapped to her left thigh. “Yeah, me?~ what’s your name, big guy?”

The beefcake frowned. “Blonde, small, blue eyes and damn near silent. Siren?”

The woman smiled and snapped her fingers. “Bingo!” She looked down at his victim. “Hmm, sliced up thighs, and open chest cavity, missing the heart and lungs…”

She looked back at her host. “My… hungry, huh?” 

The killer chuffed and shrugged. “Well...you can’t just waste something this high quality.” He murmured. “This fresh.” He widened his stance as if expecting a blow: Verbal or Physical.

The blonde hummed and nodded, stepping back. “I see that, Rippana. I imagine feeding such a big puppy puts a strain on the bank account,” She joked.

The larger being let out an amused huff, raising a hand to scratch the back of his neck. “Well, it’s surely not easy. Especially since he was injured.” He hissed.

Siren frowned and straightened up from her interested lean, crossing her arms with a wince. “Please, I barely scratched him. He fucked me up more than I did him.” 

Rippon scoffed and shook his head. “I’m not talking about you, princess. I’m talkin’ bout your knight in shining foot armor.” 

Blond eyebrows furrowed. “Foot ar-... Death went after Hound?” 

Rippana’s eyes widened. “You didn’t ask him too?”

Siren shook her head. “Fuck no. I deal with shit myself. He’s just… protective.”

Rippana hummed, looking down at the plastic bags sitting next to his victim. “Mm… boyfriends can get like that. Worried.”

Siren froze, before gagging and shuddering harshly. “FUCK NO! JUST… OH GAIA THAT’S DISGUSTING!” She roared.

The man flinched at the loud noise, raising his arms in a placative gesture. “I’m sorry! Didn’t know!” 

Siren just stuck her tongue out and shook herself. “Fuck that’s just… That’s like saying I’m fucking my dad!” She barked.

Rippana winced and nodded. “Got it. Not romantic… you know,” he said softly, “Hound did ask if you two were ‘involved’ with each other.”

Siren raised an eyebrow, smirking a bit and shaking off the rest of her disgust. “He did, did he? Even after I sliced him up a bit?”

The brunette chuckled and nodded. “Might have made Hound even more interested.” 

The blonde crooned and crossed her arms. “Is that so?~ I may just have to arrange another meeting then!”

Rippana hummed and stood, looking Siren up and down in detail. He tilted his head, and Siren wondered if that’s where the Hound had gotten it from. “You know,” his fellow artist met his eyes, “when Pup told me you were gorgeous, I believed him.”

Siren started a bit, tensing and frowning.  
“So?”  
The brunette smirked. “So he really downplayed you. You look as beautiful as a sylleblossom, in perfect bloom.”  
Siren’s frown lessened as she looked her acquaintance up and down. “You’re not bad yourself.” She quipped. “Tall, bloody, and handsome.” She licked her lips and held back a laugh at seeing the man's cheeks redden. “Just the way I like them~.”

The Rippana coughed and hid his face behind a dripping forearm. “W-well… Sorry, but I’m taken.” 

Siren pouted but nodded. “By Puppy, I presume?” The giant chuckled nervously and nodded. You don’t know the half of it, Siren.

Siren nodded and stood up straighter. “Well. Then I hope you can tell him he has good taste~,” she winked.

Rippana chuckled and nodded before his eyes widened and he reached down to search through a cooler he had with him. “Here,” he pulled out a plastic bag, a lung settled in it like a sandwich he’d just pulled from a lunch box. “For taking both my, and the pup’s breath away~.”

Siren’s eyes widened, and she took the bag, pulling open her small purse and settling it in there, so even if it opened, it wouldn’t spill. 

She registered his words and smiled softly. “You’re cheesy, huh?”

“O-oh… um… sor-?”

She waved him off. “It’s fine!” She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “I liked it!”

She glanced at her watch as she fixed her hair, letting out a soft curse. “Damn… I gotta get going.” The brunette nodded and smiled back. “Well, it’s been a pleasant chat.” 

Siren nodded. “A wonderful one, Rippana.”

The man hummed and turned back to his victim. “I’ll get back to this then.” He glanced at Siren’s bag. “Enjoy.” 

Siren smiled and nodded. “I’ll make something good with it.”

The Rippana smirked. “A fellow chef, hmm?”  
Siren shrugged. “I dabble.” The man chuckled and waved her away. “Go, before Death decides I’m his next target.”

Siren gave a nod and bounced to the crate, pulling out his crutch and making her new friend startle. “The hell? You’re using a crutch?” He asked. He hadn’t even noticed a limp...

Siren chuckled and just shot him another smile before swinging away and humming a little song. 

Angeal hummed as he opened the door to their apartment, settling a large cooler on the kitchen counter with a soft thud. It was packed, and a small drop of red ran down the container’s side that he quickly wiped away. He jumped as big, cold hands settled on his shoulders. 

“Welcome back,” Sephiroth murmured. 

Angeal raised an eyebrow and spun around, wrapping his arms around a robust, slim waist. “What’s up, Seph? You sound tired.” He rumbled.

Sephiroth let out a huff and pressed his forehead to the man's chest. “The president wants me to go after some prostitute trying to get child support from him.” 

Genesis closed the door to the fridge, a piece of celery in his mouth; Angeal hadn’t even noticed him. “Again?”

Sephiroth nodded and sighed. “Best in the company, and here I am, killing prostitutes.” 

Genesis leaned against the fridge. “I mean, it’s better than killing the president's dog walker cause he saw the president cheating on his wife with a blow up doll.”

Sephiroth stared at the wall for a few seconds, mulling it over before, “you’re… not wrong.” He stood up and stretched, hands pressing against the ceiling. “How’s the puppy?”

Genesis opened his mouth to reply when a soft groan rang from their bedroom. He, as well as the other two, hurried in to see Zack sitting up and clutching his side. “You dumbass!” Genesis yelled. “Lay down!”

Zack scowled and tried to sit up further until a hand settled in the middle of his chest and pushed him back down. He’d just opened his mouth to whine when he saw who pushed him down, gasping at seeing Sephiroth. “You’re back?!” He asked excitedly. The silverette smiled softly and nodded, leaning down to kiss the lover he hadn’t seen in a week. “Yes, Pup. I’m back.”

Zack pouted and wrapped an arm around his neck. “How dare you leave for a week without giving me a goodbye kiss.” He huffed. Sephiroth's eyes widened before he frowned and placed a few more kisses on Zack's face. “Did I truly not give you one before I left?”

Zack chuckled and wrapped an arm around his neck. “Nah, I was just messin’ with ya.”

Sephiroth scoffed and stood up, poking Zack’s nose. “You little sneak.”

Zack chuckled and gave him another kiss before settling back down to the bed with a hiss that made Sephiroth scowl. “What’s happened to you, love?”

Zack groaned and held his head while Angeal sat next to him on the bed. “Death.” He said. “Our puppy had a close encounter with the Siren kind, and Death didn’t like it. Speaking of,” he turned to Zack, “they’re not together.”

The raven's eyes widened, and he grabbed Angeal’s arm. “You talked to her?!” 

Angeal nodded and relaxed back against the headboard. “Yep. We had quite a nice chat.” He smirked suddenly and ran a hand through Zack’s hair. “She also said Death was more of a father figure and that she wasn’t the one who put Death up to beat you. Death decided to do that himself.” 

Genesis crossed his arms. “So, he’s protective, huh? Anything else happen?”

Angeal pulled Zack into a hug and met Genesis’s eyes. “She was on crutches, and she flirted with me. I did flirt back, but I didn’t do anything else.”

Genesis huffed but nodded. “Crutches?”

Angeal nodded and was immediately accosted by Zack. “Did she say anything about me?!” He asked. Angeal nodded; “She said she’d want to meet again. This time, without you and her fighting.”

Sephiroth frowned. “I’m not sure I trust it..” Angeal nodded in agreement. “Yeah, it’s not exactly unsuspicious. But,” he shrugged, “I don’t think we can do much. She said she’d arrange it.”

Genesis frowned, and his fingers clenched, red leather creaking under his fingers. “Shit… Guess we need to be careful of you then, Puppy. I’ll accompany you places from now on until you’re fully healed.”

Zack nodded, and Angeal ran a hand through his hair. “She seemed very underweight,” Angeal mumbled. 

Genesis frowned and patted Angeal’s back. “I think she’s okay, Geal. I know you worry, but if she can afford a motorcycle, I think she’s alright.”

The brunette nodded and pet Zack a bit harder. “Yes… she must have a horrible appetite.”


End file.
